


Beyond the Wardrobe

by Worldofwords



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worldofwords/pseuds/Worldofwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to a prompt from the Shkinkmeme:</p><p>"Watson has feelings for Holmes but isn't sure Holmes is capable of returning them, until he sees him interacting/protecting a small child and his whole view of what could possibly be between them changes"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond the Wardrobe

**Author's Note:**

> This does not take place in the BBC universe. 
> 
> Set during the canon stories, the reader is welcome to place this story in any universe they prefer

It had been a particularly brutal murder. Even the most seasoned of Scotland Yard turned their heads or coughed into a handkercheif.

Watson stood alone. Watching Holmes, he was resolved to never persue a relationship beyond that which they now held. For how could any man, who had even a scrap of a heart, not be somehow affected by the scene that was laid bare in the home that they were standing in?

Holmes fairly leaped over bodies. He lifted the hand of a dead infant, clutched by it's mother, with as much emotion as he greeted a slice of toast. Perhaps less emotion.

Watson was about to leave the room, when the small group of Lestrades team all gasped at once. Holmes had opened a wardrobe. Huddled inside was a boy, who appeared all of four, clutching a toy bird.

Watson made to rush towards the child when Holmes raised a steady hand. The boy pressed his body against the back of the wardrobe, holding his bird out as if to protect himself.

Holmes' clipped questions asking the boy's name, whether he was injured, or if he wanted to leave produced no response. 

While Watson would usually heed Holmes' demands for silence or inaction during a case, he knew that Holmes might unknowingly harm the child's state of mind if he continued interacting in such a way.

Carefully walking towards his friend, Watson kept a steady eye on the boy, though he was not unaware of the near dagger like stare Holmes flung at him. 

Halfway towards the child, Watson was firmly stopped by Holmes' steady, pleasent voice.

The man was singing;

_A little cock sparrow sat on a green tree,_ _And he chirrup'd and chirrup'd, so merry was he._ _But a naughty boy came with a small bow and arrow,_ _Determined to shoot this little cock sparrow._

The boy relaxed slightly.

_"This little cock sparrow shall make me a stew,"_ _Said this naughty boy,_

Holmes' voice raised slightly as the child uncurled his legs and leaned forward.

_"Yes, and a little pie, too."_

Holmes did not reach for the child. Did not move at all, for singing. It was as if the siren's themselves had decended upon the room. For every man present simply breathed, eyes clapped on the man before them.

The boy reached his hands towards Holmes and, in a soft yet bright voice, joined him;

_"Oh, no," said the sparrow, "I won't make a stew,"_ _So he fluttered his wings and away he flew._

Silence draped the room. The child wrapped his arms around Homes' neck and cluched tightly, the toy bird pressing against Holmes' back. Holmes slowly stood, holding the child tightly.

Watson, Lestrade and several members of his team approaced Holmes and stated they would take the boy from him. Holmes never let go of the boy. He continued to press his delicate hands against the child, ocassionaly moving them as a mother would to wind her child to sleep. It wasn't until an hour later, when it was discovered that an elder sibling was alive and working as an appentice at a local apothecary, that Holmes relased his charge.

As Holmes handed the boy over to his brother, the child handed his toy bird to Holmes without a word. Upon acceping it, the boy pressed his face against his brothers neck and finally, completely, relaxed.

**______**

The ride home was a silent one. Upon reaching the flat Holmes took his favourite pipe, gatherd himself up near the fire and stared into the flames. He never let go of the toy bird. Watson knew far better than to disturb the man.

It wasn't until morning broke that Holmes finally stood. He unlocked the drawer that held some of his most prized possessions and placed the bird amongst them. 

When breakfast arrived, Watson carefully prepared a cup of tea exactly to his friend's liking. He kept his eyes steadily upon the man. His hand lingered a little longer than was nessessary againt Holmes' as he passed the tea over.

That Holmes neither flinched nor made his usual grunt of acceptance, but seemed to smile ever so slightly, made Watson's cheeks flush, and an old dream rebuild itself. 

That dream became reality, and in terms of love it took no longer than a rhyme and a toy bird.

**Author's Note:**

> Con-crit, comments and kudos greatly adored.


End file.
